Powerful, Fearless, and in Control
by Spork Weilding Canary Of Doom
Summary: In the wake of the Nogitsune's reign of terror, the Beacon Hills gang tries to get their world back into functioning order. As the guilt proves to be too much for Stiles to cope with, to what lengths will he go in order to make sure his friends and family never fall prey to such evil ever again? (WARNING: Violence/Language/Self-Harm/Recreational Drug Use/Possible OOC) (PRE-S4)
1. Prologue

It took everything he had to keep the blood from spilling out of his body. Despite the sheer force of will he possessed, the warm liquid still seeped between the fingers he had clasped tightly around his neck. Any tighter and he'd suffocate.

Through his steadily blurring vision, he was able to make out the soft light emanating from within the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic. It was the first sign of hope he'd had since… well, he couldn't remember. In any case, it meant that Deaton was still in the clinic… and that he might yet survive the night. And his gaping throat wound.

However, his knees buckled less than three feet from the entrance. The impact jarred his concentration and he choked out a glob of blood. It took a second too long, but he quickly reasserted his thoughts and, now at a crawl, made his way to the entrance of the clinic. His vision was fading fast… if Deaton didn't see him within the next sixty seconds…

As if in answer to prayer, just before his bloodied hand reached the glass of the door, it opened to reveal a very shocked, wide-eyed, almost _fearful_ Deaton.

"Stiles…"


	2. Chapter １

AN: I had to delete and repost due to line breaks not showing up. MY apologies if this has caused any confusion! I didn't realize it would do that.

* * *

_Several months earlier…_

Sometimes, Stiles wondered why he had become so accustomed to finding Malia sleeping soundly next to him. No matter how late he stayed up, he would always wake up to her arms and legs tangled up in his and her hair splayed across his face. It had been startling at first, but over time, Stiles grew comforted by her presence. And, after a moment of wondering, he realized that she helped fill part of the cavernous hole in his heart. _That_ was why.

That, and she helped to keep him anchored to reality.

The nightmares had never really let up after his friends exorcised the Nogitsune. Whether it was The Split that cloned his body for the evil spirit, or residual effects of the possession itself, Stiles was never quite right afterwards. Naturally, he kept his concerns to himself. However, Malia's habit of sneaking through his window at night during his episodes made it difficult to hide. His father had burst in on more than one occasion as well. It didn't surprise the boy that his father was on edge, his earlier nightmares being indicative of evil spirit possession, after all.

However, he had managed to convince them that nothing was awry. In fact, he even got the both of them to remain quiet about it. 'I don't want anyone to worry, alright? We've done enough of that for me already. If something changes, I'll tell you', he'd said. Malia took him right at his word, having no reason to distrust him. His father, however, was a little more resistant. After several more promises, he eventually agreed.

So it was no surprise that Malia spent her nights with Stiles, offering him what little comfort she could when his night terrors were at their worst. And it seemed like tonight would be no different.

The buzzing had been dull and almost nonexistent for the most part, and Stiles had dismissed it as a dream. However, as the night progressed, the sound of flies grew ever louder. He clenched his teeth, willing the sound to go away, trying everything to convince himself that there _weren't_ any flies. It was just a dream. A _bad_ dream.

Louder yet.

This time, he squeezed his eyes shut. If he concentrated hard enough on the warmth of Malia's body or the sound of her breathing or the smell of pine needles in her hair… maybe the flies would go away.

From somewhere faraway, he felt a firm squeeze on his shoulder. _Malia_… Thinking it was safe, he opened his eyes.

Silver teeth and a bandaged face filled his vision. Black lips parted and the smell of decay invaded his nostrils. Frozen by fear, he listened as the flies quieted and the all-too-familiar creature slowly spoke his name.

_"Ssssstilessss…"_

"GET AWAY FROM ME!"

Stiles swung at the apparition. His arm sailed through the empty air. The buzzing had returned in full force and, unable to quiet his mind, the teenager flung himself to the floor and covered his ears. Someone called his name – most likely, Malia – but he put his forehead to the carpet and choked out a sob. _Not real, not real, just a dream, just a dream…_

He finally gave up.

Quickly reaching under his bed, Stiles pulled out the small Leatherman his father had gifted to him a few years back. The blade portion was already exposed and he gripped it tightly in his hand. He squeezed, harder and harder, until the pain began to trickle through the chaos of his mind. Eventually, it reached his body and began to calm his racing heart. His breathing began to slow. The nightmarish world began to lose its hold on him.

"Stiles…"

Slender fingers touched his own. It took a moment, but he managed to pry his eyes open. Malia was at his side, a concerned look on her face. He followed her gaze to his shaking hand; blood poured down his arm and splattered onto the dark carpet. Slowly, she began to pry his fingers away from the blade and open up his hand. "Ahh," he hissed. "That… hurts…"

"_You're_ the one with the death grip on a knife," Malia retorted as the blade finally fell from his hand. The werecoyote's eyes flickered blue as the wound was exposed.

"You okay?" Stiles asked. Malia closed her eyes a moment, then looked at him with a flat expression.

"Again," she said, her eyes back to normal, "I'm not the one bleeding out."

Stiles didn't reply as he stared back down at his hand. In that moment, he felt completely opposite from the way he had just minutes earlier; like everything was almost _too_ real. "Scott told me once," he finally whispered, "that pain makes you human." He paused and looked at Malia. She gave a small nod and he went back to inspecting his new wound. "It also makes you _real_… You, this room, _everything_."

Finally, Malia softened her expression and sighed. "I know, Stiles," she replied. "But this is the third time this month."

He knew she was right. Instead of getting better, he only felt like he was getting worse. If the teen didn't figure something out soon, he'd be forced to tell Scott. Or his father. And if he didn't, Malia would.

Carefully, he stood and made his way over to the door. "I'll figure something out, okay?"

Malia stood as well and walked over to Stiles. Placing a hand on either side of him, she leaned in close and stared him down.

"Uh…" he faultered. "_We'll _ figure something out?"

The werecoyote smirked. "Good. Because I don't know how much longer I can resist the urge to lick your wounds."

* * *

"Dude, what did you do _this time_!?"

Stiles rolled his eyes and threw his hands up. "Y'know what? Scott? I'm not even gonna tell you. Nope."

His best friend laughed and slapped a hand on Stiles' shoulder. "Aww, c'mon! I was just joking, I swear!"

"Nope. It's too embarrassing. And if you laugh, I'll cry. Guaranteed."

Scott stopped a moment before leveling an odd look at his friend. "Was Malia involved…?"

Stiles pursed his lips as they continued on to class. "She… _may or may not_ have been involved…"

"Hah!" Scott barked out. "I knew it. Try not to grip your bedposts so tight next time."

Stiles rolled his eyes again, but couldn't deny that he was impressed with his own fabrications. Technically, he didn't lie about anything. Malia _was_ involved. And if Scott knew the source of his injury and laughed, he probably _would_ cry. It sucked, lying to his brother like that… but it was necessary. If Scott knew…

"Hey, guys!" Kira said as she ran up to the boys. Scott smiled warmly at her.

"Someone looks rather chipper," he commented.

"I do?" Kira asked, then shrugged. "Well, yeah, I guess I do… But it's because I've got something good!"

Scott and Stiles looked at each other quizzically. "Something good?" Scott prompted. Kira nodded.

"Well, y'know how things have been, well…" She glanced at Stiles. "I think… I think we all need a break, y'know? A chance to let loose and kinda… y'know… let loose." When neither boy replied, she sighed and pulled out a small flyer. "Look, there's a party going on tonight at the docks. I thought it might be nice for us all to get away from the school. To do something fun."

Stiles snatched the flyer. "A party? Oh, a _dance techno rave party!_ Scott, you know what happened _last time_ we went to a dance techno rave party? Kira?" He slapped the flyer to Scott's chest and turned to the kitsune. "Look, the last three raves _I _went to either had monsters, or poison, or both!" He shook his head. "Sorry, but there's no way I'm going."

Meanwhile, Scott inspected the flyer a moment before looking up into Kira's hopeful expression. "…Stiles, she's kinda right. Maybe it _will_ be fun to get away."

Stiles pouted in exasperation. "Oh, c'mon! You can't look into her googley little fox eyes with any hope of resisting! It's not fair!" He turned to Kira. "That's not fair!"

"I'm pretty sure I saw you busting a move at the last rave," Scott commented offhandedly. Stiles narrowed his eyes.

"Well, that was the last time. I'm done with dance parties. Done. Not going. Ever."

* * *

"I hafta admit, this beat is pretty bumpin'!" Stiles shouted over the bass flooding the club. Scott laughed as he, Stiles, Kira, Malia, and even Lydia made their way to through the dance floor to the lounge area.

"I can't believe I let you guys talk me into this!" Lydia shouted. Kira smiled apologetically.

"It wouldn't be the same without you, Lydia!" she replied. The strawberry-blonde pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"…you're right!" she eventually replied matter-of-factly. Kira smirked.

"Why aren't we dancing!?" Malia piped in. Without waiting for a response, she flung herself into the moving bodies of the dance floor. Stiles stood dumbly for a moment, but wasted no time joining her when Malia beckoned him. Scott laughed at his friend's sudden enthusiasm.

"Have you found one yet?" Kira asked Lydia. The banshee scanned the crowd for a moment before holding her gaze on some stranger across the room.

"Why, yes I have," she replied, but her words were lost in the music. Both Kira and Scott smiled as she took off for her prey for the night.

Suddenly, Kira filled Scott's vision. "Well?" she asked. The alpha smiled.

"Shall we?" he replied, leading her out to the dance floor.

Surprisingly enough, Kira's plan of attack was rather effective. The crew danced and laughed and had a generally good time. Stiles didn't want to admit it, but the night was proving a worthy distraction from his worries.

"I'm gonna get some water. Want one?" he asked Malia as the current song transitioned into a different one. The werecoyote smiled and nodded, then went right back to dancing. Stiles was totally exhausted, but he attributed her dancing fever to some sort of supernatural endurance. At least, that way he didn't feel quite so out of shape.

Despite the bodies writhing against one another, he made it to the bar where he waited patiently for the tender. Out of the blue, someone fall against his back, startling him.

"Woah!" he commented, turning around to see a slight girl on the ground. He quickly helped her up so that she wasn't trampled. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, my gosh, I'm sorry!" she said with a small smile. "Are _you_ okay? I totally tripped right into you…"

"I'm fine," Stiles replied. The girl smiled again and adjusted her small black dress. She seemed slightly out of place in the club atmosphere, what with her jet black hair and black, lace choker, but Stiles figured he knew little of club culture and proper attire anyways. Hell, he was in jeans and a t-shirt.

"Two shots of Crown, please!" she said to the bartender as he approached them.

"Two waters for me," Stiles added. He had to admit, the small girl looked no older than he and he was a bit surprised when the bartender slung two shot glasses in her direction.

He grabbed the water bottles and turned back to the dance floor when he felt a small hand on his arm. "Wait!" came the girl's voice from behind him. He turned to see her offering him one of her shots. "For saving me from being the goo beneath someone's shoe."

He waved his hand. "Really, it's okay," he replied.

"What… You're not celebrating anything?" she asked, straight hair waving almost unnaturally with her movements.

"Celebrating?"

"Why else would you be here?" she asked. "Even if you're just celebrating the fact that it's Friday!" Stiles smiled and shook his head. The girl almost pouted. "Well… you must have _something_ to celebrate. Even if it's something small."

After a second Stiles replied, "Well… I guess I did just get over being sick." He reached out and grabbed the shot. "…like, _really_ sick."

"Then… to your health," the girl said, clinking his shot. She threw hers back, smacking her lips together afterwards. "You've earned it, at least."

"How so?" Stiles replied amusedly, downing his shot as well. It burned, but tasted fantastic.

"Well, not everyone can be possessed by a Nogitsune and live to tell about it."

Stiles' heart nearly stopped in his chest.

All senses on high alert, he slowly looked at the girl before him. She met his eyes, her expression completely neutral. "…what are you?"

"Someone who wants to help," she replied.

"That doesn't answer the question." Using his peripheral vision, Stiles scanned the crowd for any sign of Scott.

"I assure you, Stiles," she said, startling him with the use of his name; he'd never told her, "I'm every bit as human as you are."

The teen felt like his insides had turned to ice. "That really doesn't make you any less dangerous," he reasoned.

"True…"

"And it doesn't explain how you… know."

The girl placed her empty shot glass on the counter and took a step towards Stiles. Out of fear or determination, he wasn't sure, but he remained rooted to the spot. "I know a lot about you, but that's not the issue. Besides, don't you think if I was something _inhuman_… that you're shape-shifting buddies would have sniffed me out the moment I started talking to you?"

"Have you been stalking me?" he asked.

The strange girl sighed sympathetically. "I know where you're coming from, Stiles. I've been where you are… Helpless, weak, so pathetically human that all you're good for is getting your friends and family in harm's way." The noise of the club seemed to melt away. The girl's eyes lowered to Stiles' hand. Subconsciously, he held it behind his back. "But, I changed that. I found a way to protect everyone I care about… And I want to pass that gift onto you."

"No thanks, not interested," Stiles said stiffly. The girl shook her head.

"The nightmares won't go away, Stiles."

They were quiet a moment. Even the club remained silent. It was almost… suffocating.

"When you change your mind," the girl finally said as she turned away, "come find me."

The noise of the club seemed to form back into existence. "With what? You didn't give me a little stalker contact card."

The girl smirked. "I'll be around, Stiles." With that, she melded back into the crowd and disappeared. He looked and looked, but couldn't seem to find her.

"Stiles?" said Malia's all too familiar voice behind him. He turned to her, a water bottle in each hand. "Um… are you okay? You've been gone for… ever."

"Yeah… Yeah, sorry. Here," he replied, handing her a water bottle. She ignored it and stared at Stiles. "What? I'm fine, I promise. I just helped this girl from getting stepped on and she bought me a shot."

"Hmm…" Malia replied, snatching the water from his hand without breaking eye-contact. Luckily, she dropped it.

Again, Stiles hadn't _lied_, he just kept part of what had transpired to himself. It wasn't the most honest thing he'd ever done, but he was getting rather good at it. Besides, the last thing he needed was for Malia to be even _more_ concerned about his sanity and safety. She might not hold out for much longer and confess to Scott how he had been struggling. Stiles had worked far too hard for that to come crumbling down around him.

_"I'll be around…"_

He decided that if he _did_ see the stranger again, he could tell Scott. In the meantime, he tried to focus all of his attention on Malia. "Shall we dance?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Malia sighed and smiled. "Perfect. Because we both know that _this_," he said, gesturing to himself, "is wasted potential, just standing over here."

With a laugh, she lead him back out to the dance floor. Stiles spared one more quick glance around the room, but the girl was nowhere to be found. So, he put it from his mind. Tonight was supposed to be about letting go and relaxing, after all… Not strange stalkers and talk of death and possession by evil spirits.

* * *

The weekend passed by quickly enough and, despite his hyper vigilance, Stiles saw no signs of the strange girl. He felt uneasy about it, like he couldn't see her, but she could see him. Then again, he _did_ call her a stalker.

Malia kept a watchful eye on him, but his lack of nightmarish episodes helped to placate her. So, when Monday arrived and he met up with her at the school entrance, he had almost completely forgotten about the stranger.

"Hey," he said, giving her a nudge with his elbow. "Finish your math homework?"

The deer in the headlights look was unmistakable, but he allowed the werecoyote to try and fumble out an excuse. Stiles listened patiently as they walked. He couldn't help but be amused as the frantic tone in her voice grew as they approached the classroom.

"I take that as a no, then," he mused.

Malia smiled apologetically. "I know… it's just… evil. I still don't understand why they had to put letters in here… It's hard enough with just numbers…"

"But then life would be too easy and we wouldn't have all that teenage angst they write bad vampire novels about," Stiles reasoned.

"They write vampire novels about math now?"Malia asked, almost horrified.

Stiles stared at her a moment after they took their seats. "Y'know… I bet they do, actually."

"Alright, phones off," said the teacher as he entered the room. Malia sighed and faced the front, exuding dread with every cell in the body. Stiles turned to ask a classmate for a pencil, but the words never left his mouth.

Sitting on the other side of the classroom was the stranger from the bar. She looked up and met his eyes was a small smile. A lump formed in Stiles' throat and he felt himself go cold. Malia looked over her shoulder at him, obviously sensing his complete shift in demeanor. "Stiles..?

"Just because you can't text doesn't mean you get to chat during class, Malia, Stiles," the teacher chastised. Malia blatantly ignored him, but Stiles managed to pull his gaze away from the stranger. He glanced quickly at Malia and shook his head.

"Later," he promised.

The werecoyote seemed to accept his response, but wasted no time in pinning him to a locker right outside the classroom once the bell rang. "What's wrong with you!? You literally smell like you're about to freak out and run away."

Stiles didn't reply at first. Instead, he watched as the stranger walked out of the room and past the two of them. Stiles watched her with a semi-horrified expression until she disappeared down the hall. Malia had followed his gaze. "Malia," Stiles finally said.

"What?" she asked concernedly, turning back to him.

"Think you can let me go? Or do you want my lunch money first?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, dropping the teen. Stiles winced and straightened out his clothes. "Sorry… It's just… Is it that girl? She's the one you were looking at, right?"

For a second, Stiles' eyes widened. "It's not like that or any-"

"Did she do something?" Malia interrupted, completely missing the implication. This calmed Stiles a bit.

"Yeah, she, uh…" He sighed. There was no hiding the bar incident now. "Remember that girl who bumped me at the club? And bought me a drink?" he asked. Malia nodded. "Yeah, well… she kinda _knew_. About the Nogitsune."

"Knew? How so? Do you know her?"

Stiles shook his head. "No, I've never seen her before. I didn't even know she was a student… Must've used a fake I.D."

Malia stared back down the hall. "Could she just be another, like, person? Like me? Or Lydia? And she's just in hiding?"

"Malia," Stiles said seriously, drawing her attention once more. "She knew about _this_." He held up his still-bandaged hand. "She knew about the nightmares… She knew a _lot_."

"Why didn't you say anything?" she asked.

Stiles sighed. "I don't know… I just didn't want to ruin the night, I guess."

"Stiles…"

"Look, I know it was stupid to not mention it, but she hasn't threatened me or anything… she just told me she wanted to help."

Malia sighed. "Well, that's definitely better than the usual supernatural creatures we run into…" She sighed. "Scott will probably know what to do."

"Um, about that," Stiles said. "Don't tell him just yet, okay? I don't think he'd handle all of _this_ very well," he explained, gesturing to his hand. "At least, not right away."

"Are you sure?" the brunette asked. Stiles nodded.

"Just, let me break it to him. I'm sure he'll only be, like… a little upset." He reasoned. "Okay?"

Malia sighed again. "Okay. But if she comes near you, I'll…" She paused at Stiles' knowing look. "…I'll just… casually ask her to leave you alone?"

Stiles smiled. "See? Progress." Malia smiled back sarcastically as Stiles left for his next class. However, the expression quickly dropped.

"Sorry, Stiles," she said quietly before taking off to find Scott.

* * *

"I'm just saying… it's pretty cool you get to use a samurai sword."

Kira smirked. "Yeah, and you get these super cool claws and fangs."

Scott laughed. "I dunno," he replied, picking up a stick as they crossed from one school building to another. "You kinda look like a badass when you wave it around." He gripped one end and mock-swung the stick. Kira laughed.

"It's not a baseball bat," she commented as she gently adjusted his grip. "It's more like… a giant, long, claw. You slice, not bash." She smiled. "Try it."

Scott took a moment and, with a rather serious expression on his face, attempted to properly swing the stick. He narrowly avoided whacking Malia in the face as she came careening out the door. "Woah!"

"Sorry!" Malia cried out. "Just had to find you."

He and Kira exchanged concerned looks. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, oh yeah, totally fine," she said hurriedly. Scott just stared at her. "Okay, okay, not really. It's… I think… well, it's hard explain."

"We can wait until lunch if you want?" Scott suggested. Malia shook her head.

"No, it's… It's Stiles," she finally blurted out, then looked around to make sure the aforementioned teen wasn't actually there.

"Stiles? What do you mean? Are you two…"

"No, it's not like that…" She sighed in exasperation. "Look, I'm about to tell you something that's _probably_ going to make you a bit upset…"

"Malia," Scott interrupted. He pulled her to the side of the building. Kira trailed behind them. Finally, Malia rolled her eyes and dove headfirst into her story.

"Somebody at the dance club on Friday night asked Stiles about his possession. And now she's here at the school."

"Wait," the alpha said. "You mean… someone just asked him randomly about the Nogitsune? What else did she say!? Where is she now? Did she seem threatening!?"

"Scott, slow down," Kira whispered, putting a hand on his back.

"N-nothing," Malia replied. "Just that. Only that."

Scott stared at her. "Malia."

"What!?" she said a little too loudly.

"Malia… what aren't you telling me?"

_This was it…_ she thought. She hated doing this, but the werecoyote couldn't shake the feeling that this situation was just about to get worse. Especially with this mysterious new stranger showing up at the school and knowing about the Nogitsune. The bell rang. Neither Scott nor Kira moved. Malia shifted nervously, mimicking a cornered animal.

"Malia," Scott said, eyes briefly flickered red. "Tell me everything."

* * *

No matter how hard he tried, Stiles couldn't figure out a way to explain the entire situation to Scott without having his best friend – his brother – getting royally pissed at him. It sucked. And he had spent the past two class periods trying to think of what to say. Nothing seemed right. _Maybe I shouldn't…_ he couldn't help but think. It _was_ possible to try and talk to the stalker girl beforehand…

He sighed in frustration as the bell rang and everyone filed out of the classroom. He realized that he should have just told Scott about everything right away. The teenager was so lost in thought that he didn't see the fuming alpha headed his way. Definitely wasn't expecting the bruising grip of Scott's hand on his shoulder, either. "Woah!"

"We need to talk," Scott said firmly. Stiles stared at him a moment, totally bewildered as to what was going on.

"Wha… why the death grip?!" he asked. "What happened?"

Scott remained silent and continued to stare at his best friend. Suddenly, Stiles had an idea of what he wanted to talk about.

"…Malia."

"It doesn't matter," Scott snapped. By now, the halls had cleared, but he still lead them into the nearest bathroom to talk. His alpha senses immediately told him that it was empty, so they could talk freely. Once inside, Scott crossed his arms and waited.

Stiles felt his heart flutter. "Scott, I was gonna tell you about the girl at the bar, I just thought-"

"And the nightmares?" the alpha interrupted. Stiles swallowed loudly.

"I thought they would go away after a while…"

"And this?" Scott asked, grabbing Stiles' hand.

The teen winced and jerked it away. "It's not what you think, Scott. I was just-"

"How long were you going to lie to me?" Scott whispered.

"Scott, please."

"Did you really think you couldn't tell me?"

Stiles sighed. "Look, this isn't what you think it is, okay? And it's the girl at the bar that we should really be more concerned about. You know, my _stalker_?"

"You mean the one that knows you were possessed by an evil spirit? That knew about your nightmares? And your hand? Even before _I_ did!?"

Both boys were silent. Slowly, the expression on Stiles' face hardened. "Scott, I have it under control, okay? I'm not totally helpless."

"And what happened the last time?" the alpha prompted. "Stiles, you _lost_ that battle. And even when you and Void were split, you were still dying! And then Allison-" He stopped for a moment. "You should have told me." Stiles clenched his jaw. Scott could tell he was closing up. "If something had happened…"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he replied with an acidic tone. With that, he turned on his heel and made for the door.

"Stiles, wait!" Scott replied, realizing he probably hadn't handled that in the best way. He grabbed Stiles' shoulder, but the other teen moved away.

"Scott, please," he said through clenched teeth. "I can at least be pissed without you holding my hand."

At this, Scott drew back and let his best friend leave. Stiles was right; he was almost more upset about the fact that Stiles had hid his troubles from his best friend than the fact that he had any troubles at all. It wasn't fair. And it wasn't going to help Stiles, either. He sighed and exited the bathroom, surprised to see Lydia standing a few feet away. "That… sounded like it went well…"

Scott sighed again. "It's complicated."

"I could tell by the shouting and the stomping and the slamming doors."

"Someone talked to him at the club about the Nogitsune and, apparently, they also go to school here."

Lydia's eyes widened. "Oh… that could definitely be bad…" She was obviously recalling her experiences with Void. And the tragedy with Allison, as well. "But, just now…"

"I'd explain, but… I don't really have the whole story yet. But I think he might be… in trouble? I don't know…"

"Should I… go talk to him?"

Scott shook his head. "No, I should… probably apologize or something…"

Lydia gave him a flat look. "Or something…?"

He smiled apologetically. "We, uh… don't really fight, y'know."

Lydia walked over to him and gently patted his shoulder. "Well, considering that Stiles has a stalker and god knows what else might be wrong… I think you'll overcome your first ever lover's spat."

The alpha rolled his eyes. "Okay, I'll talk to him after school. We'll sort it out and get a game plan."

* * *

There was a breeze that helped cool the sweat on Stiles' face. He'd managed to find a secluded area behind one of the buildings to cool his head. It shocked him how quickly he had been to react that way to Scott, but he _was_ running on very little sleep. On top of that, he was completely unprepared. Not to mention that Malia totally betrayed his trust. It didn't really matter if she did it for him, he was still upset about it.

He heard soft footsteps approaching from behind him. "I'm fine, Lydia," he said with a sigh. "I'm just going to sit here alone to contemplate my life and such for a while, okay?"

"I'm not Lydia," said a strange yet familiar voice. Stiles' heart skipped a beat as the stranger from the club walked over and took a seat on the edge of the stairs beside him. Just like the club, she wore black; a sundress, flats, and lacey choker to match. However, her chin length hair was tucked behind her ears, giving her a more childlike appearance. "Do you still want me to go away?"

"That depends," Stiles replied cautiously. "If I say 'yes', are you going to maim and or kill me in some horrible manner?"

The girl smiled sadly and shook her head. "I already told you, Stiles. I'm just here to help."

"Humans can be evil, too, y'know," he mumbled.

"I know…" the girl replied. She looked at Stiles with dark eyes. "I'm Jordie, by the way."

"So, just how do you plan to help me, exactly?" Stiles asked, getting straight to the point. Despite her calm demeanor, he remained taunt, ready to run if he had to.

"I said that I know what it's like, right? To have to run all the time… to constantly put my friends and family in danger with my helplessness."

"_Geeze_, _tell me how you really feel_," Stiles retorted.

"I'm serious."

"And why do you want to do this? Just out of the kindness of your heart?"

Jordie shrugged. "I guess you could say that… Is that so hard to believe?"

Stiles let out a sharp laugh. "In my experience, yes. And that's usually what serial killers say before they, y'know, tie you to a tree and bludgeon you to death."

Jordie was quiet a moment, just watching him. "…let me show you something," she finally said. Slowly, she reached for Stiles' bandaged hand, but he jerked it away.

"Woah, woah…"

"Relax," Jordie replied. "It might be a bit extreme, but… if this is the show of good faith I have to do to get you to believe me, then so be it. Please." She extended her hand. "I'm not going to hurt you. Quite the opposite, in fact."

Stiles stared at her for a moment, searching for any sign that she was going to rip his arm off and eat it the second he allowed her to touch him. However, nothing about her seemed malicious. In fact, he felt rather inclined to trust her. It wasn't like him. Finally, he figured that he really had nothing to lose and placed his hand in hers. "Okay… wow me."

"Just relax," she replied, placing her other hand over the wound. She closed her eyes and whispered something, but Stiles couldn't make it out. Then, ever so gently, she raised his hand to her lips… and kissed it. "There."

The teen just stared at her, not really sure what she just did. Then, out of nowhere, his hand tingled. It was only for a few seconds, but instant relief from the cut followed. His brows furrowed as he began to unwrap his hand… only to reveal that the wound was gone. Nothing but smooth flesh remained, not even a scar was left. "…how…"

"I told you," Jordie said, her voice almost sing-songy. Stiles looked at her with an utterly flabbergasted expression.

"How did you do that!?"

Jordie swung her feet slightly. "Magic."

"…magic."

"Magic."

Stiles narrowed his eyes. "You're seriously telling me that _magic_… that you used magic? Like, Disney and Hogwarts magic?"

Jordie laughed. "No, not quite… I suppose the more technical term is 'witchcraft'."

"Witchcraft?" Stiles asked, scooting away.

"Well, it's really called 'blood magic', but-"

"Oh, blood magic. Perfect. It just keeps getting better."

Jordie sighed. "It's only called that because it's the only kind of witchcraft that humans can practice. It's difficult to explain, but if you let me show you…"

"You mean teach me blood magic," Stiles clarified. Jordie nodded. He stood. "Look, not that I don't appreciate the… healing session? But this has 'dangerous' written all over it."

"You're right, Stiles," Jordie said, standing. "It is."

Stiles crossed his arms. "No offence, but you're not really helping your cause, here."

"But that's why I came to you," she explained. "Because I know that deep down… you're stronger than you or anyone you care about wants to admit. You survived possession by one of the most evil types of spirits out there… and when they divided you, that monster took a piece of you with him, you were dying… and yet you _still_ fought! And, despite what the others might say about you, Stiles… you _won_. You could have let yourself fall into that beast a never resurfaced… but you didn't." She grabbed his newly healed hand. "And you _deserve_ to be given the chance to show them that."

Stiles moved his hand away from her once more, but this time he did so slowly. As much as he hated to admit it, her words hit him at his core.

"Just… think about what I've said, okay?" Jordie said, finally breaking the silence. "And, if you decide to take your fate into your own hands… I'll be waiting for you. Right here. Tonight. Okay?"

The teen just backed away slowly. "I… hafta get to class…" Without turning his back to her, Stiles moved away and around the corner, disappearing from sight. Jordie just watched, staring thoughtfully at the empty space he once occupied.

_"That was very impressive."_

"I thought so, too," Jordie replied to the voice behind her. "He's desperate. He wants to do whatever it takes to no longer be helpless."

_"You have complete confidence he will be here tonight?"_

Jordie smiled. "I bet he'll even be early."

* * *

Stiles had hardly been able to concentrate through his next class. Eventually, he just decided to go home to think things over. Scott called him a million times, leaving message after message about how he was sorry and just wanted to figure things out. After the millionth one, he sent him a text saying everything was fine and he'd talk to him tomorrow. Truthfully, he was still a bit flustered about it all, but knew that they could resolve it easily. Besides. He had Jordie to worry about.

He tried to figure her out from every possible angle, but it was impossible with so little information. She was obviously human, which made her slightly less dangerous than the usual suspects. However, she was capable of super-human things. At this thought, Stiles inspected his healed hand once more. On top of all that, she wanted to share her abilities with him. To _teach_ him. And with no catch. The teen frowned. There was _always_ a catch. He just couldn't see it yet.

If only her argument wasn't so compelling. Even then, eating dinner with his father, her words still resonated in his head. Eventually, he couldn't resist asking his father, "Dad, you'd do anything to protect the people of Beacon Hills, right? Y'know, protect and serve and such?"

The sheriff paused mid bite. "Yeah. Of course."

"And me?"

At this, Sheriff Stilinski grew a bit more serious. "Absolutely. Even more so." He eyed Stiles suspiciously. "Is everything okay? I heard that you came home sick earlier and you've been quiet all night."

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied casually. "I just had a really bad migraine earlier and ibuprofen wasn't handling it. Don't worry, I made it through my math class at least."

The sheriff smiled. "Alright… you'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"

"Dad," Stiles said, his eyes pleading with his father as well. "I promise you, I will let you know if something is wrong. I was just…" He sighed. "I was just thinking about all the times you've been in danger, y'know? I just wish there was something more I could do. Instead of waving a baseball bat around."

His father chuckled. "Son, danger is an inherent part of my job. If I didn't expect to have to draw my weapon from time to time, especially knowing what I do now… Well, that'd be asinine." He reached over and patted Stiles' arm. "You already do the best you can anyways, Stiles."

"Yeah…" he mumbled. He grabbed his plate and walked it slowly to the sink. _The best he could_…

More often than not, Stiles' best just wasn't enough.

Jordie watched the stars above her. It was a beautiful sight and she was easily able to pass the time with stargazing. Besides, she knew she wouldn't have to wait long.

As if on cue, a pair of hurried footsteps made their way towards her. She didn't move or look his way. Instead, she only smiled as Stiles spoke.

"Tell me more about this… blood magic. If it can save people, protect them…"

Finally, Jordie turned and flashed him a large smile. "I'll tell you everything."


End file.
